That song she sings, "Little Girls" is what I want to sing when Emma goes into meltdown mode. Here's an excerpt that is particularly fitting for this morning, "Little cheeks, Little teeth. Everything around me is little. If I wring little necks, surely I will get an acquittal."
This morning's meltdown started like this. She wakes up, I show her the super cute tie dyed tshirt that a good friend had brought her from Disneyland to thank us for taking care of their cats and hamsters while they were away. (PS-Hamsters are evil. Yes you are, Myrtle...I don't care what your owners say, you nearly took off my entire finger like it was a vienna sausage.) Emma looks at the shirt and loves it! She's so excited to try it on and wear it. She puts it on. Instant disapproval. It's too long. "It covers up my bottom." "It's supposed to, it's a longer tshirt. It was made like that." Oh no. No, no, no, no. Emma has an issue with a top being longer fitting, like a tunic. Serious issues. "It's a nightgown, I think." "No, Emma, it's not. It's a long tshirt." Thus the meltdown begins.
Sobbing, begging, crying, everything to not wear this horrible, hideous tshirt she was so thrilled about 5 minutes earlier. Yes, I know, I should pick my fights, but she's wearing the shirt because when I get off work, we going over to Miss Jennifer's (the friend) house to say, "Thank you for my shirt. I love it." . The only problem is, Emma is going to refuse to act like she likes it. She has no filter. She isn't going to put on her polite face. She will look Miss Jennifer right in the eye and boldly proclaim what a hideous piece of fabric it is that she was forced to wear!
The best line I hear this morning was, "I can't brush my teeth." "Why, because your shirt is too long?" "No, I can't brush my teeth because I can't stop crying." Oh. My. Gah.
I truly understand why my grandmother would say, "If you keep crying, I'm going to give you a reason to cry." This is why God gives some people the angel baby/child first. It's a trick to keep us pro-creating. Look how sweet and loving this one is! Surely my next one will be, too! Out pops an Emma. Wait! I'm sorry, this was a mistake, I ordered another Olivia. I think this one was delivered to the wrong uterus.
Emma keeps me laughing, though, that's for sure. Her sense of humor is closer to mine and Olivia...well...she has her dad's sense of humor. For those of you who have met her dad, just keep drinking and maybe her stories will get funnier? She gives great hugs, though.
I've attatched a picture, to let you see, the crying continued into the car, on the drive over to the babysitter's and up to the front door. Once she saw all the dogs that were visiting, the crying stopped and she had other important matters to take care of, like getting licked by 2 big dogs and chasing the small one to pet it.
